


Eggnog and Angels (but not on top of the tree)

by babybrotherdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, and is super-enthusiastic about christmas, and wearing reindeer antlers, basically this is a christmas gift fic I'm posting in february so sue me, but not really because everyone is alive and castiel remains angelic, crowley being a sassy little shit, dean gets a little tipsy, eggnog is a catalyst for destiel, ridiculous christmas sweaters, sort-of spoilers for season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Not a creature was stirring, not even a-</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Oi! If I have to wear the bloody antlers, at least make sure they're sitting properly!"</i>
</p><p>In which it's Christmastime in the bunker, and everyone is eager to celebrate (especially Dean). Spiked eggnog, dorky sweaters, and an abundance of Christmas spirit ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggnog and Angels (but not on top of the tree)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teamfreewillismygaything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreewillismygaything/gifts).



> So this is a sort-of AU, in that the era is more or less season 9, but I've taken some (read: many) liberties with who's alive. And who's still an angel. And some other things. Essentially: everyone is alive. No one is possessed. Keep an open mind for my fic-to-show accuracy. And enjoy :) 
> 
> Oh, and a general note: this is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own (and totally open to corrections if you want to point them out).

_T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house,  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a-_

"Oi! If I have to wear the bloody antlers, at least make sure they're sitting properly!"

Dean gave Crowley an unimpressed look, but set about adjusting the headband anyways. He might've been the king (ex-king?) Of Hell, and he might've been locked up in the bunker's dungeon at present, but that was no reason for Crowley to be unfestive. Or at least, that was how Dean justified dressing the demon up with felt reindeer antlers and a fancy wreath around neck. It sort of brightened up the dungeon, gave it a Christmasy feel.

"There," he said once everything was centered, feeling a grin tug at his lips at the sight of his work. "Perfect. Happy holidays, Crowley." Dean snapped a quick picture with his phone before heading out, tossing a casual "shout if you want any eggnog" over his shoulder as he left the cell.

Returning to the main room, the generalized living area of the bunker, Dean was greeted by the sight of his brother stretching up to place a star on the very top of their full-sized, real-pine Christmas tree. Now that they really had somewhere to call home, it only seemed right to have a proper Christmas. The only bump in the road had been their initial attempt at decorating, the day before, when Kevin had produced an angel for the top of their tree. Of course, it had only served to confuse (and possibly offend) Castiel, and eventually Sam had been sent out into the chaos of last-minute shopping that was December 23rd in order to get ahold of the star currently adorning the tree (he claimed to have wrestled some middle-aged soccer mom for it, but Dean was pretty sure his little brother would've lost that fight, had it actually taken place).

Long story short, they were finally done. Strings of multi-coloured lights, a mess of garland and tinsel that they'd be cleaning up for weeks, and their lovely (albeit a little sparsely decorated) tree.

It was quite the sight to behold.

Dean grinned, walking forward and letting out a low whistle. "Place don't look half bad. Maybe we should keep it all dressed up year-round."

Sam turned to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "Never took you for the type to get so into the holidays." He shrugged then, taking on an easy smile. "But hey, I'm not complaining."

"'Tis the season, Sammy," Dean responded cheerfully, falling into one of the chairs at the table that dominated the room. "So where's Cas?" After a pause (and an amused look from his brother) he tacked on a quick "and Kevin?"

Sam rolled his eyes at the addition. "Kevin went to grab the eggnog- I think he mentioned something about a liquor cabinet he found, too- and I think Cas is in his room. Said he'd be out soon, though."

As if on cue, Castiel picked that moment to walk in, wearing what had to be one of the most ridiculous Christmas sweaters Dean had ever seen, all done up with little reindeer. It was probably a couple sizes too big, given the way the sleeves fell almost to the angel's fingertips, but somehow it seemed to fit him just right. Blue eyes flickered around the room before finally settling on Dean. A small but genuine smile made its way onto his face. "Hello, Dean," he greeted.

Dean couldn't help the answering smile on his own face. "Hey, Cas." Giving Castiel an obvious once-over, his smile grew. "Sweet threads."

Was Dean imagining it, or was Castiel actually flushing red? "I've been told that it's a sort of... custom to dress this way," he said, snuggling into his sweater a bit more. It was sort of adorable.

"Remind me to find whoever told you that and give them a high-five," Dean replied, almost laughing. "If festive was what you were going for, you hit it out of the park."

Castiel smiled a bit again, and moved further into the room, inspecting the decorations. "It's very... colourful," he noted thoughtfully, eyeing the Christmas lights with suspicion before moving onto the tree. Dean almost wished that they'd kept the angel for the top, if only to see Castiel's reaction again.

Kevin's entrance was announced by unintelligible grumbling as he staggered in, weighed down by bottles and a few glasses. Dean managed to step forward and relieve him of a few before the kid dropped anything, and helped him lay everything out on the table.

"Huh," Dean said, eyeing the selection. "Looks like the Men of Letters liked to party more than we gave them credit for."

It was quickly agreed upon that Castiel wasn't to have any alcohol (his time spent 'on a bender' was still all too fresh in the minds of the Winchesters), and Kevin opted out of drinking, citing how he wasn't actually of legal drinking age anyways, and hey, it wouldn't be fair to leave Cas sober all by himself, right? So Sam managed to dig up some hot chocolate for them while Dean started pouring drinks for himself and his brother, pausing only to turn on the game.

\---

Two hours, four glasses of eggnog, and one near-incident involving Sam, the King of Hell, and mistletoe later (Crowley had actually shouted for some eggnog, and Sam had been sent to deliver it, and how the bastard had gotten his hands on the stuff was beyond them), Dean was feeling decidedly tipsy. No, not tipsy. Buzzed. Tipsy was for chicks who couldn't stop giggling and falling all over themselves and every remotely attractive guy in their immediate vicinity.

Dean was definitely not giggling.

If he was maybe stumbling around a bit, and if he maybe chose to drape himself all over their resident angel of the Lord, then that was totally unrelated.

Dean sighed dramatically, leaning heavily on Castiel with one arm thrown over his shoulders. "Hey, babe, you know what?" he was saying, had been saying for some time now, all sorts of weird shit coming out of his mouth, "you're awesome. And I like your face. Have I ever told you that? Have I, Cas?" 

Despite the full-grown man doing his absolute best to knock him over, Castiel was supporting Dean's weight with ease, taking small sips of hot chocolate from the mug he held in his free hand. "Yes, Dean," he replied patiently, amusement in his voice. "You've told me that several times in the last hour, as a matter of fact."

"S'cause it's true." His words were slurring. Okay, so he was probably more than a little buzzed. Sam must've spiked the eggnog. Again. "You're like..." Dean gestured helplessly. "The best." 

Castiel's lips quirked into a small smile. "Though I'm certain such a declaration stems from your impaired state of mind, I do appreciate it, Dean." He paused, glancing over to where Sam and Kevin had settled down to watch the game, before continuing. "Though for what it's worth," he murmured, eyes returning to Dean, "I think you're the best, too." Another pause. "The best in what sense, I couldn't say, but the sentiment still stands."

Dean snorted in amusement. "Too many words, Cas," he replied teasingly. As his friend turned to look towards the television again, Dean was struck with the sudden urge to touch Castiel's face- to run his fingers over his sculpted jaw, the fine stubble that always seemed to be present, but Dean's hands were busy keeping himself upright, so it seemed like the only logical course of action was to lean forward a bit and maybe brush his lips against the angel's cheek-

-except Castiel chose that moment to turn back towards Dean, and Dean's alcohol-addled brain wasn't working fast enough to facilitate a course correction, so instead of meeting rough stubble, his lips brushed against the impossibly soft skin of Castiel's.

Dean thought that the angel was more composed than he really had any right to be, especially considering the little electric tingles and fireworks that seemed to be going off in Dean's mind. It wasn't until a strong, sure hand reached up to rest gently on the back of his head that Dean properly started kissing Castiel, more confident now that his impulsive advances were being accepted.

Castiel's lips tasted faintly of the hot chocolate he'd been drinking, and they were somehow even softer than they looked, if maybe a little bit chapped from the frigid December air.

Dean decided, distantly, that he should maybe thank his brother for spiking the eggnog. 

They broke apart a moment later for air, and Dean met the other man's intense gaze with ease. The moment was broken by the sound of chuckling over by the television. Dean tore his eyes away from the deep blue in front of him in order to make a face at his brother. Sam only laughed harder and Kevin sighed mournfully.

"Pay up," Sam cheered as the young prophet started digging through his pockets. He produced a few bills and handed them to Sam. 

"Guess I'd rather lose to you than Crowley," Kevin muttered, sighing again.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Please, no one's watched these idiots pining over each other more than I have." Turning towards the general direction of the basement where they kept the demon, he shouted. "Crowley, it happened! You owe us another translation!"

There was a loud groan followed by "it's about bloody time!" before the King of Hell quieted down again.

Dean blinked, watching the whole transaction and still leaning heavily on Castiel. "You... made a bet with Crowley?" he asked slowly.

"And Kevin," Sam replied matter-of-factly. "Charlie was in on it too, but-" He smiled triumphantly, waving the cash that Kevin had given him. "I won."

"You... bet," Dean responded. "On... when..."

"When you two would finally get over yourselves and hook up, yeah," Sam agreed. "Seriously, Dean, you could've cut the tension with a knife.'

"...huh," Dean murmured, doing his best to absorb that. "Right."

"I think it's time for bed," Castiel piped up, having been silent to that point. Dean was pretty sure it wasn't fair for him to be so unfazed by this.

"It's not even that late," he protested, but allowed Castiel to start leading him away. "I'm not even tired, Cas, come on."

"I don't believe," Castiel murmured, not looking back as he led the way to Dean's room, "that I specifically mentioned sleeping."

And if that made Dean stumble over his own feet in an attempt to move faster... well, no one needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> So hey, first post to AO3. Anyways, this was a (late) gift fic written for teamfreewillismygaything (castielcalledmemoonkitties on tumblr), so. Credit for the initial idea (the prompt. The request. Whatever) goes to her :D That's basically it. Christmas fluff in February.
> 
> (ps this title is so subject to change you don't even know)
> 
> Feel free to find me on tumblr: allers3 is my main, and allywriteswords is for writing :D


End file.
